Band of Friends
by LunchKing
Summary: Many a tale tells of fresh Inklings claiming victory with legendary splatting skills. This tale... isn't one of them. In fact, it's about a simple guy and a couple of friends. Nothing epic here. Seriously, go read something dark and gritty, this one's boring!


"Until next time everybody! Stay fresh!"

That was the end of the hourly announcements. After that, everyone went on to their business as if nothing happened. I didn't particularly care too much for the stages anyways. I was too busy focusing on my own personal matter at the time: I was not fresh. Not at the slightest. I didn't want to be stuck wearing the same, plain old headband along with the hand-me-down junior shirt (although, the sneakers can stay). With that in mind, you'd think that I should be battling in Turf Wars to become fresh and start wearing more popular gear. I would be doing just that if it weren't for this one problem...

I'm left-handed.

All the weapons in Ammo Knights are designed specifically for right-handed squids, and I have nothing of the sort to help me combat against such a disadvantage. It really sucks... Alot.

So here I am, just moping around, often daydreaming that I could somehow splat thousands of opponents and climb that ladder to the top. If I was the talk of the town, that'd be real sweet. Of course, nobody's ever heard of a super-fresh inkling that hasn't gone through their entire career without getting their hands dirty. I hate how necessary that part is. Either way, I'm either forced to suffer defeat after defeat with a handicap or live without a chance at fame and fortune with a bottomless pit they call 'humiliation'.

"Hoi therr, Shkipps! Wacha dewin'?"

I look up and see who it was. It was my childhood friend Sitra, always happy-go-lucky with those goofy-looking braces and the freckles that accompanied her face. There was a certain charm to it that made her pretty well-known around the area. Now all she needed was a band-aid going across her nose, and that'd make her the center of attention for weeks on end.

"Oh, just doing my usual..." I responded, which of course usually consisted of... well, nothing. I usually just stand around in the plaza, looking at other squids in their clothes. I sometimes envision myself in their bodies, just going about confidently and not having to worry about being left-handed. I just hate the idea that right-handedness rules pretty much all of Inkopolis. It's just unfair!

Sitra looks at me with skepticism. She walks all around me to get a good look at my body...

"Shwetty hansh, shaky back, hair droopping, uh-huh..."

I hate it when she analyzes me like this. It's like having someone study your body... while being naked... it's just really uncomfortable.

"Shomething sheemsh a littel off aboucha." she goes on, "Yer feeling jellous, arencha?"

"Wh-wha?! Jealous? Me? No!" I quickly reply, "Not jealous at all! I'm just... not getting enough sleep is all." I quickly rub my eyes to reassure her that was the case.

"Oi know a fib when oi shee one, don't lie ta me!" She walks up to me, clearly insistent on helping me with my problems. Yeah, she's always been this way. If there was ever a problem, Sitra could see it and would come running across Hammerhead Bridge and back just to solve whatever troubled her friend and then go back home or something. It didn't matter when, it didn't matter where; if something so much as a math problem plagued your mind, she'd be there. Sometimes it can be a little creepy, but at least her heart is in the right place. I just wish she would be able to solve this problem I have right now...

"Alright, you got me," I admitted, "I wanna be fresh and play professionally in Turf Wars, but I just can't seem to get the hang of it! The weapons are always suited for right-handed squids and I'm a lefty!"

She paced back and forth several times, and eventually came to her conclusion:

"Shorry, don't shee the problem therr," was all she could say.

There was a brief pause, but then she continued, "There'shh no shuch thing ashh a right-handed weppon or a left-handed weppon! You're jush complainin' becaush you're fashing againsht tough shquids."

Well, I guess she had a point. I was only level 3 and so far, the only thing I've been up against were Splat Chargers, Rollers, and Tentateks. Even though they were basic weapons, I still got my rear ended handed over to them. In some cases, literally! After some battles, it hurt just trying to sit down.

That, along with the humiliation, is why I refuse to do sports for any sort of glory.

"It'sh all okay, oi guesh," she then walks up to me, laying her hand on my shoulder, "Oi'll help ya become fresh!"

* * *

There I was, standing at the far end of Port Mackerel. The large containers and moving forklifts made it near impossible to see what was up ahead. Sitra forced me into a private battle of her own, hoping that I could develop a couple of skills. I've decided to reluctantly make my way towards the central area of the long, narrow battlefield and found Sitra standing there on the other end. She was holding onto a Splat Charger... I hate those things.

I'm sorry, did I say hate? I meant to say **_LOATHE ENTIRELY_**.

Nevertheless, I started inking my area and dove in to the ink. There was no doubt, I was nowhere near subtle, and I hid straight in front of her eyes. Yet, she only starts to humor me and act all aloof.

"Ohh boi, oi wonderrr where that Shkipps went! Oi hope he doeshnt, oh oi dunno, pop outta ground from behind me an shplat me!"

This was stupid. There was no way I was going to learn from this.

"Oi shaid 'Oi hope he doeshn't pop outta tha ground an shplat me!"

Whatever. I decided to ignore that and just pop up straight in front of her.

"Shoot me now," I said in disgust.  
"OH MAH!" she blurted out in complete disbelief (not really).

She then turned around and started covering, her rear end sticking up, right there for me to shoot at.

"Aaackh! Ya got meh! Haff mershhy!"

I couldn't tell whether she was trying to boost my morale or just insult me. With her kind-hearted nature, I figure it'd be the former, but for someone like her to take pity on someone like me is just pathetic.

Immediately, I threw my weapon down to the ground.

"Put your butt down, it's indecent and annoying," I've said before turning down and walking away. Seconds after walking away, she immediately grabs hold of me.

"...And thish ish exshacklee why werr friensh!" she said with complete optimism, "Yerr too kind to shplat shomeone when therr down!"

At that point, we were just standing in the center of the maze of containers, littered with countless boxes and forklifts roaming the lanes. Neither of us had an idea as to how to spend the rest of the battle.

"Sho, wacha wanna do?" she asks me.  
"Well, maybe watch people at work?"  
"Okee!"

We both walk over to a view with workers carrying boxes off and onto the ship. It seems like such a tiresome task, and the fact that they do these kinds of things 24/7 confuses me.

"Ya know, Callie an Marie ushed ta work like thish too!"

Even the stars of Inkopolis hit rock bottom before climbing up to the top, huh? Food for thought...

"Gee, thoshe workersh shure are bushy! It'sh a reel pain ta hafta work like thish for a long time! Good thing the mushic helpsh out their shifts though!"

I agree with that; these workers would probably have quit their jobs were it not for something so simple like music to keep them on their feet, ready for the immense labor. It's an interesting thing about music: it can totally hype you into any situation. One minute of listening to a song from the Squid Sisters and I'm either ready to jog through the entire block of my neighborhood or fall asleep with no trouble at all.

This song was no different; it seemed pretty upbeat. Come to think of it, when the match started, the song started off as a little hopeless. But then as it continued, it started becoming a lot more lively and upbeat! Once the lone harmonica cries out for companionship, a flurry of friends started gathering around it; strings, bass, winds, and percussion all kicked in and offered to be its companion. At that point, I suddenly got a warm feeling.

...And an idea.

"Hey, Sitra?"  
"Yea, Shkipps?"  
"Do you know anything about starting a band?"


End file.
